And I get an unwelcomed notion
That then and now won’t be the same
That water in the sink is an ocean,
That the face on a stamp is familiar,
That the perfume on a pillow smothers,
and my past and my future are linear
and I am different from and the same as others
Is it time for Valentine’s heartbreak?
Is it the first time or is it again?
Am I still sleeping or just awake?
Am I lost in endless «who» and «when»?
Am I thinking of those outside
Or am I thinking of myself thinking?
Should I tiptoe or should I glide?
Like the captain whose ship is sinking
I am chewing the thoughts
And they taste like old, stale bread
And the victims didn't cast their lots
Now they are all pure but dead.
If now it is time for dissecting the hearts
And it is the heart who is obliged to choose
Then I need no advice, no charts
And it is me who is obliged to lose
That might be never, that might be a year ago
And the knowledge seems to come from the delf
Because my heart’s choice is easy to know
Now as always it chooses to break itself.
